Get Out of My Life
by HeavenlyOoberries
Summary: The drugs, the relationship with a pedophile. Riku was sixteen, and for months he'd been trying to leave it all behind.  But he'd been going clean for too long and that night he just wanted to live. AnsemRiku, RikuSora. Heavy themes, see warnings inside.


A good chunk of dialogue in this is shamelessly ripped right from Kingdom Hearts I, II, and RE:COM Reverse/Rebirth ... not that I claim any right to it.

I really should have made this M rated because there is some heavy stuff going on but I don't think it's something teens can't handle. And anyway, it's about a teenager who gets into adult situations and gets in over his head, so the T rating seemed appropriate. It's more about Riku's recovery than doing drugs or pedophilia. Sorry if that's the part you came for. Besides, what teens actually acknowledge the age boundaries on this site? In fact, most of the people writing the M rated stuff are probably the people too young to read it. Irony? I think so.

Yeah, so maybe the whole pedophile Ansem bit is a little overdone, but_ is there really another way to explain their relationship? Really?_

**Warnings Ahead: **Language, drugs (mentioned and used), mentions of sex with a minor, sexual content in general, about eight times the daily recommended dosage of angst, and my GOD the longest intro EVER.

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><p>When Riku was fifteen, he'd finally had enough of kid stuff.<p>

He'd grown up an island kid, living on the same stupid, isolated patch of land his entire life. He yearned for adventure – _real_ adventure, not the lazy afternoon exploration of the same tired old caves and crevices he'd seen a million times in his youth. If Sora and Kairi were going, he'd still tag along, slower and with much less enthusiasm, as they eagerly pointed out spaces to investigate, and invented stories about what could be hidden there. Riku knew there was nothing ground-breaking to find around the beaches, and he was sick of playing and pretending there was.

More and more now, Riku would find himself in only his own company. He'd wander up to the small cliff overlooking the ocean and sit on the tropical tree that grew out of the ground at a low, strange angle. There he'd stare out at the horizon, trying to gaze past it somehow and find some new, exciting landscape that he could travel to. Day after day, he entertained his private fantasies of seeking his fortune and infamy in those far off lands, or even just something to _do_.

Once he'd sought a little ground coverage for himself, he thought, no one would ever think of him as a child again. Their tiny beach community was cut off even from the rest of the island, separated by a wide berth of forest. You had to walk to the nearest town just to go to school. There weren't many kids around here, and a bit of a generational gap, making Riku the oldest 'child' among them. But he didn't want to be part of the _kids_ anymore.

He was bored. He was restless. He was _way_ too old for this.

Never once had he suspected that his 'adventure' would come much closer to home.

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><p>The teenage boy felt a wicked sort of thrill as he crawled out his bedroom window into the near-hanging tree branches, then let himself drop to the ground. He glanced for a second up at the dark windows, checking if any sound had roused his parents, but he doubted it. It wasn't the first time he'd snuck out late at night. This time, though, it wasn't for an after-dark game with the island kids, or the bravery contests with the boys, namely Sora (which Riku always won anyway).<p>

No, this time he had something better in mind. Something exciting and dangerous and _bound_ to get him in trouble. He revelled in his courage.

Now he was in the centre of the single city on the island. Not that it was saying much, as it was within walking distance of anywhere, but it had everything a city _should_ have, in Riku's mind. And it was wonderful. It had taken him a while to find somewhere still open at this hour, and when he did he'd been riding on a mature high for so long he'd forgotten that he was actually still too young to go in.

That didn't remain an issue for long, however. Just a moment before he'd been ready to turn away, discouraged, an unfamiliar hand rested on his shoulder. "He's with me."

It didn't occur to him then as strange that this perfect stranger was inviting someone obviously too young into a bar. He just cared that he was getting in.

"Thanks." He muttered, sounding as unimpressed as he could.

But the stranger seemed to like his attitude. He didn't laugh at it, or try to exert authority over him to stop. He seemed rather intrigued. "Hm. If you're looking for a good time, I'd like to show you something."

"Sure." Riku shrugged, arrogantly. He wouldn't back down to anything this man was offering. He could take care of himself, and he wasn't intimidated. "What's your name?"

"Ansem. I think we can work out something good here."

The scenery blurred. Now Riku was crushed between Ansem and a stranger in an overcrowded booth. The people around him were faceless, their features too dark under the single dim lamp or blending together, going by too fast and too unfamiliar to recognise an individual. Only Ansem stood out.

Each time the server came around, Ansem would give Riku suggestions but wouldn't order drinks for him. Only children had the grownups place orders for them, he'd said. This suited Riku just fine, but he was happy to welcome suggestions on what to drink.

He slammed his glass to the table and his vision swayed. He tried to shake the feeling off but it seemed attached to the inside of his skull.

"Hey, kid, you should stop." A voice somewhere to his left sounded both worried and amused. "You've had more than anyone."

But Riku wasn't going to lose, not by any definition. He'd keep pushing and he didn't fear what would happen if he pushed too far. But it was the 'kid' that really did it. "No, I can do one more."

"What'd I tell you?" Ansem was laughing, hard, the golden-orange eyes on Riku blazed with what could almost be called pride. "Riku's tough. He can take it like a real man." One arm slid around the teen's shoulders as he signalled. "Last round's on me, in honour of Riku's first bar crawl."

All the other voices at the table cheered or drummed their hands noisily on the tabletop. Some span of time must have passed but been deleted from Riku's memory because it seemed that he'd only blinked and his next drink was in front of him.

He stared into the amber liquid, and his hand gripped the glass as tightly as if it would keep him from falling. His stomach tossed angrily and his brain pressed heavily against the back of his eyes, as though his own body was trying to talk him out of this too. He exhaled and tipped back the first half of the glass in one go.

"Whoa, he's a tank."

"Good man, Riku!" He drank in the praise but he desperately hoped no one was going to give him a congratulatory clap on the back or he might not be able to stop the stomach and throat that were working madly against him.

Riku held the liquid down but it felt like he'd taken a full on blow to the face. Was the floor moving? Were there more people now or were they just talking more? Why was everything so _loud? _He gazed into his glass with hesitance. He had the option to just leave it at that and not drink more. Or at least give himself time to recover. After that leap of effort, body and mind seemed to be losing their motivation the longer he waited between.

So he drank the rest in gulps with his eyes screwed shut. Every sip burned his throat and made his stomach jump with more of that sick feeling. He forgot taste and texture. This was just a game.

Riku _always_ won games.

Though his head pounded and the whole world looked as though he was viewing it inside a spin washing machine, there was a great sense of victory when at last Riku's empty glass hit the table.

Suddenly time fast forwarded, still that same night but somehow later. Riku was outside now, stumbling down the still-lit street with Ansem at his side. In all his life, despite that he had very little power over what his limbs and mouth would do right now, Riku had never felt more in control. Everything that happened tonight he'd decided to do, and he handled it all on his own.

He liked Ansem. Ansem would introduce him to things he hadn't thought of and Riku would take charge for himself. He wasn't like any adult Riku had ever known.

It was light outside now. The jolt that passed through Riku as he realised this was almost enough to finally make him lose control of his stomach contents. He'd stayed out way longer than he'd realised. His parents, if they weren't awake already, would surely be before he could make it home. Mom would come to wake him up, see his open window and know what he'd done-

Wait, what was he _thinking_? Who cared if his parents knew he'd snuck out? It didn't matter if they got pissed at him, he'd just had the best night of his life. They didn't control him anyway. He was fifteen - old enough to think for himself and do what he wanted. Obeying them at this age was just being nice, and whatever he decided to do with his life was none of their business. Far as he was concerned, he could just walk in the front door now, he didn't need to make excuses for himself.

Riku pushed himself off Ansem. "I can walk from here. Thanks for helping me get in."

"Not at all." He grinned, looking Riku up and down, checking if he could stand on his own. "Come see me again sometime soon. I'm always down here."

Riku did see Ansem again. Many times. Scenes flashed past him as they'd meet at bars and clubs again and again, and every time there seemed to be a new gang of strangers all as keen on being impressed by Riku as he was on impressing them.

More pictures were zooming through his vision. All the nights out with friends were ending as nights in together at Ansem's apartment as Ansem's affectionate cuffs on the bicep and the casual arm around Riku's shoulder became hands brushing low on his hips and the older man's lips exploring Riku's throat. If Riku hadn't already been drunk every time, he would have surely never allowed this. Actually, the first time Ansem kissed him sober, he'd vehemently protested, hit him hard across the jaw, and they didn't see each other for a week.

But as time went on his consciousness was blurring. The Riku he was during the day and the Riku he became at night had been parts he separated before. He was handling his alcohol better, so he could remember bits of himself while drinking, and during the days he'd start to remember some events of the night before. It seemed like no time had passed when finally day Riku and night Riku were completely indiscernible. When Ansem kissed him this time, he realised that he just didn't _give_ a shit, and leapt passionately into the kiss.

'Dating' seemed like too juvenile a term for what they were; they were _together_, plain and simple.

It was Riku who demanded they have sex the first time. By no means was he naive. Like any self-respecting fifteen year old, he understood what sex was very well and made a point to expose himself to it in any way he could. He may have been a virgin and lacked finesse, but he knew what he was getting into just fine.

Like magic, the floating images of time passing disappeared and Riku was there now – his and Ansem's first night together. He would have liked to say they were lying together on Ansem's bed, but it would've been false. They were in a tiny parking lot behind a bar, and Riku was pressed up against the hood of the guy who'd just thrown them out for disorderly conduct's car. It was _fucking freezing_.

And he was starting to get impatient. Ansem was a bit high and couldn't seem to locate a condom for all he was worth. Above that, Riku had started out indignant ever since he'd been pushed onto the car.

Finally, Ansem found the stupid thing and leaned over his lover once again, trapping him against the cold metal. Lips found each other and meshed hotly. As Ansem's leg slipped between his, Riku gripped his jacket in both hands. Right now, that was the only thing Ansem had left on. It seemed like for a moment neither of them could figure out pleasure beyond holding each other, gyrating hip-against-hip, tongues clashing and massaging, and sparking so much delirious warmth Riku could almost forget how chilled he was.

It was Ansem's hand sliding between his legs but carrying on lower that set off alarm bells in Riku's head. When had this arrangement been decided? Why should _he_ be the one taking it?

"Hey." He was more breathless than he had counted on, somewhat depleting the severity of his voice. "Why are you doing this? I know what I'm doing."

That much was essentially true. Riku practiced self-pleasure quite liberally, so it only seemed to be the next logical step to giving pleasure to or taking pleasure from someone else. And any part he didn't know, his instincts would fill in.

Ansem just chuckled. "I know you do. Don't get ahead of yourself - we've got plenty of time."

When Riku just scowled, Ansem carried on. "It's your first time; I just want you to enjoy yourself. Just relax, sit back, and let me make you feel good."

Riku didn't like being told what to do but something unspoken about Ansem was just so damn persuasive. It seemed like he could offer him anything if Riku only handed himself over and accepted it. So he took a leap of faith and trusted Ansem on this one. It had better feel as good as everything else he'd introduced him too.

His expression was anything but submissive even as Ansem nudged against his inner thigh to spread his legs.

"Don't make me regret this."

The rest of that night faded away, and when things were in focus again, it was another night, far ahead. It was almost like initiation, the way he was welcomed into the small huddle of people keeping to the shadows of the club. These corners were the places where Ansem always went when he was after something stronger than booze. Until now, Riku had never been invited to join him. Ansem just told him to pace himself and he could come try it out when he was ready.

Though Riku didn't quite know what to expect, he was _ready_ for anything.

He took a spot nearest to Ansem, crouching there awkwardly. One of the strangers cracked open a plastic bag, shaking out a handful of tiny pills and distributing them around the circle.

Riku's was stolen from his palm the moment he received it. Ansem shook his head. "Not for your first. You've got to start smaller or you'll burn yourself out."

"I can do this." He'd decided he wanted to do this. Might as well dive in head first.

"I will not stop you. Do what you choose."

Riku just smirked at him. "I've always handled whatever you gave me before. I can handle this."

"Very well." The tablet was dropped back into Riku's hand. He and Ansem popped them into their mouths together.

It took a while. For nearly half an hour Riku was convinced that he was going to feel nothing at all. What a waste of time.

The most immediate thing he noticed was, that when he finally tried to sit up from where he rested against the wall, it was like gravity had increased tenfold only on the space his body took up. He fought his way through it, sluggish and heavy. With the force of titans, Riku turned his head to the right. Ansem sat there silent, looking as though he was involved in very deep thought. Riku decided not to bother him by asking if this feeling meant it was working.

The next thing that occurred to him was that the lights were _very_ bright, especially around Ansem. He seemed to glow almost, but the aura around him was a black-violet mixture. Could darkness... glow? The phenomenon seemed possible, most likely because Riku could see it with his own eyes. He came to the conclusion that what surrounded Ansem was definitely just darkness. Could darkness somehow man... man.. manife... _form_ itself into a physical being at will? Riku thought long and hard on the prospect until he was so overcome with the weight of his head that he needed to lie down.

He splayed there on the floor next to his lover but felt no urge to speak to him, much less try anything else. Nothing was to disturb his private world of contemplation. One hand came to lounge comfortably against his stomach while the other lay there on the floor next to him, palm up. Riku could just feel a cold breeze finding its way to him through the damp heat of the club. The cool air floated over his hand pleasantly, coming in waves, bouncing through every bump and crevice in his palm. He closed his eyes and stayed perfectly still, just feeling the current on his hand.

There was no way of telling how long he stayed that way. Honestly, time was lost on him to begin with. If he needed time, there'd be plenty of it. He was young, after all. Once, he did allow himself to open his eyes and look up. With a bleary look into his memory, he could recognise some of the people who were in the circle before, talking to each other or shuffling towards where the dancers were. Riku couldn't understand why they would want to do that when lying here was perfection itself. Heavy eyelids drifted closed again. He didn't think he'd ever felt more awake, but he didn't have the slightest desire to sit up or do _anything_ besides lying here.

He felt so inexplicably happy. Like he could accomplish absolutely anything right now but all he had to do was lie on his back feeling content.

The scene tilted. He was lying on his stomach now. He was wet and cold, and now desperately tired. Must have been sleeping, though, or close to it. Nothing else could account for this disgusting grogginess. Something warmed his back, clinging and heating even the fabric of his shirt. The sun?

Slowly, with great mindfulness of potential motion sickness, Riku raised his head. He didn't know when he'd got here, but him and a few other crashed bodies must have wandered in at some point last night. Dew dampened grass was his mattress tonight, it seemed. It was some kind of field. With his head raised only enough for his chin to dig against the ground, he couldn't see far enough to decide if it was a soccer field or a wild meadow.

Judging by the unrelenting sunnyness, it had to be at least midday, maybe afternoon. Riku had missed school again. He'd missed a test. Not that it mattered - he would have failed anyway. He'd hardly shown up this entire unit and when he did he never bothered to learn it.

At this rate it made more sense to give up school entirely, but he didn't know. It came with a lot of problems, not the worst of which being that his parents wouldn't allow it in the first place. He'd be expelled before they considered pulling him out of school.

Riku didn't want to think this through again. He let his head drop back into the grass.

Time was jumping in weeks now. As seamlessly as a movie, time and space could alter themselves and Riku would arrive mid-scene on another day and another location.

He would take anything now. Anything Ansem gave to him, Riku would allow into his body without question. Secretly, he was searching. Searching for that one thing that could give him some kind of ultimate high. No matter how good he felt, there was a sort of unbridled freedom from _everything_ that he just hadn't reached yet.

This new mystery narcotic he tried certainly wasn't doing that for him. It all but knocked him out cold. This dark floating though, it wasn't quite unconsciousness. The sounds and motions all around him weren't clear enough to classify what they were, but they were real and not an invention of some jacked up dream.

He awoke from his stupor long enough to realise that his hands were bound together. In a brief flash of terror, he thought he might be in a police car, handcuffed. Then he felt Ansem's weight on him, his hair brushing against Riku's bare chest. It took about a second longer to come to the realisation that Ansem was very much so inside of him as well. Everything before now was blank, though. Riku wondered if he had asked for this or if it just happened.

He could feel eyes on him. Were people watching? It was dark... so dark. He had no idea where he was, as if this was nothing new.

Riku tried to move, but his arms really were bound. His tongue felt too heavy to move – he couldn't speak. Ansem moved inside him and pleasure made his ears ring, though he felt like he'd blacked out again.

Everything slow and confusing was suddenly thrown into sharp relief. He was at home, his real home, and everything was moving in fast motion. His parents were there, both of them, but Riku wasn't looking at them. He was moving around his bedroom, snatching clothes from his drawers and shoving them haphazardly into an old backpack.

It wasn't until his mother grabbed his wrist that he even spared a thought about them. "We want you to stay home. We can talk about this."

"Listen to your mother, Riku. She's thinking of _you_."

He jerked his arm back. "We don't need to talk about anything. It's got nothing to do with you. Either of you." The longer he spoke, the louder things escalated. "Little Riku's not here. _Perfect_ Riku's not here. You're doing nothing but getting in my way."

Riku threw the bag over his shoulder so hard it knocked him in the back and nearly sent him stumbling. What he had would do. He wasn't waiting around for this bullshit any longer.

His father was blocking the door. "How dare you speak to her like that? Her and I give you everything. This is how you repay us?"

"Riku, honey, are you on drugs?"

Their son laughed aloud at this. "If I am? Okay, Dad, kick me out then. Go on, try it."

His father raised a hand as if to strike him, but the poor bastard didn't have it in him. It was no good. The two of them wanted their son to come home. Riku knew it; he knew they wouldn't really turn him away, no matter what he did. Even if they had, it'd just be one more burden off his shoulders. Ansem's place was always open if he needed a place to live. He always had food and everything covered, too. Riku could get a job, no problem. It wasn't like he needed school anymore.

Beaten, but not quite defeated, his mother tried again. "If you would just tell us where you're going... who you're with."

She'd obviously gone too far. Riku's fist slammed into the wall not a foot from her and she let out a shriek. His knuckles bruised and bled, and a little ply wall crumbled to the floor. "God_damn_ it. And what would you do? Call the police? _No_, you wouldn't! Because you can't stand everyone in town knowing how bad things really are in this house. And you, Dad, you wouldn't dare do shit unless Mom said so. You've always been like this! And what about me, huh? Riku? You're afraid I might learn stuff and try stuff you two didn't feed me from a tube all my life. You ever stop to think if you gave me some freedom, maybe this wouldn't have happened? Of course you didn't. Your son just turned out to be another piece of shit teenager, and you can gripe all you want about what went wrong. It's why you moved me to this... this stupid backwater hick town! Thought the big city might poison poor little Riku's mind? Well, here's the facts, _Mom and Dad_. You fucked up. You fucked up bad."

They seemed struck dumb by this argument. Riku's father, obviously fearing for his wife after the display of violence, moved them both out of the way of the door.

Riku wasted no time in pushing the door open. "I'll be back. But don't wait around for me."

Another obstacle blocked him at the door. Tidus, whose house was directly on Riku's right, was crossing the lawn towards him. "Hey, my mom said she heard shouting. Everything okay over here?"

But even Riku wasn't expecting how cold he could sound towards the friendly concern. "Your mom really can't mind her own fucking business, can she?"

"Hey!" Tidus was rushing at him, ready to lay a punch across his nose, but Riku was faster. A solid blow to his chest left Tidus gasping for air, knocked onto his back in one of the garden shrubs. "What... what is _wrong_ with you, man?"

Riku didn't answer. He just made for the tree line, knowing if he was any later Ansem would ask questions. He knew Tidus wouldn't follow him anyway. No one in this town had any guts. No wonder he wanted to escape it.

He'd followed the path within the forest almost up to the break that would bring him onto the main road, but was stopped again. This obstruction he didn't anticipate, and it nearly made him halt in his tracks.

Sitting there on a flat rock, just aside the gap in the trees where city lights could be seen shining in, was Sora. He was obviously waiting for someone. Riku didn't have to guess who it might be.

His presence alerted Sora without even making a sound. "Riku."

"What are you doing here?" Riku hadn't sounded so unsure in a long time. Leave it to Sora to push every button without even trying and leave him choking on words. Accepting why that was had been a long time coming.

"I want to know. Tell me what's up." Sora stood and brushed himself off. Though only a year younger, he was so much shorter than Riku still. "You don't have to talk to your mom or dad. Just me. I just wanna know. Maybe I... me and Kairi can help."

The immediate response that came to mind was to snap at Sora to leave it alone. But he thought of something better. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me, Sora! I can show you. We can get outside this old place."

Riku was so exhilarated with the idea that he hadn't anticipated the response. "What are you talking about? We can't leave! What about Kairi?"

Riku dismissed this. "Kairi's coming with us."

It made so much sense now. It was so stupid _not_ to think of it. He didn't have to keep all these new and exciting experiences to himself. What could be better than getting into trouble with his two best friends again? But this wasn't the kiddish petty kind of trouble – real, _thrilling_ power and freedom. Sure, Ansem probably wouldn't think much of them at first, but Riku could vouch for them. Sora and Kairi would be reluctant to try all the things he tried, but he'd show them how good it could feel. Anyway, they always followed his example in the end. And his relationship with Ansem, he'd explain that too them to. If anyone was to understand what they had, it'd be those two he'd known for so long.

Sora wasn't responding. He just stood across from Riku, looking aghast that his friend had suggested such a thing. The older boy rushed to assure him in the way he'd want himself reassured. "Look, if we really do this, we're going to change. We can't stay the same as we always were. You have to let go of your parents. Think of yourself – and us! You can't turn back on this."

He quickly added, when Sora appeared no more convinced. "But this may be our only chance. You don't want to be stuck here forever, do you? You can't let fear stop you. I _know_ these things." Riku's eyes hardened. "I'm not afraid. Are you?"

One hand extended towards Sora. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak before he stammered out, "Riku..."

Something changed just then. There was no sound or signal to prove that it happened, but things were different between them. The dynamic shifted, and Sora glared. "Stop it, Riku."

"Think about it. If we go together, we could do all kinds of things. You and me, like always." He let his hand drop to approach Sora. "So how 'bout it?"

Sora backed away. He'd been hiding something behind him that Riku hadn't noticed before. Now he drew it out – one of the old wooden swords they used to have fights with. Sora crouched into a ready battle position, eyes not leaving Riku.

"You'd rather fight me? Over what?" He felt like he was about to laugh, but there was contempt there too, boiling underneath. Contempt for Sora not understanding him.

"You're crazy! You've always taken things too far, but not like this. Hurting people – hurting _everyone_! And there's something... something telling me that you're hanging around with the wrong people! And you're only going to hurt more people."

Riku could see now all that would ever come from asking Sora to join him. He really would be going alone after all. Sora was too noble. He always wanted to do things the right way, following the rules, making everyone proud. Looks like it made them too different in the end. "Guess I don't have a choice then."

Faster than anyone could make heads or tails of what was happening, they had rushed at each other and Riku gained the upper hand. He held the wooden sword high over his head.

When he spoke again, he did nothing to sound like the friend he'd been until now. "Go home, Sora." The brunet boy had fallen to his knees in front of him. "While you're at it, you can go on playing hero with this." Riku tossed the sword into the dirt next to Sora. He'd only taken it to keep Sora from attacking, he had no need for toys like that.

As he turned on the spot, he heard Sora get to his feet and take off in the opposite direction down the path. As for Riku, he stepped through the gap in the trees, ready to walk his own path.

Riku wouldn't take this into account until much later, but Sora had tried to reach out to him that night, grasping for his hand with all he had. And although Riku had held out his hand to him, he made no effort to reach for him at all.

As though the floor fell out underneath him, the world dissolved and he felt like he was falling. Going on falling for what could easily be hours.

He knew what was happening to him. It always happened, sooner or later. Long after he sniffed the powder, smoked the chemical, swallowed the pill, drank the toxin, or punctured his flesh with the needle. Depending on what he'd taken, sometimes the fall would be slow and he would come back to sober little by pleasant little, like waking from a long restful sleep. It could also take the energy right out of him and he'd sleep right through it, and get up the next day feeling resurrected from the deepest unconsciousness of his life.

But along with that came the times that it didn't seem to _want_ to wear off. Whether the trip was good or bad, the last of the effects fought their way out of his body. The world was ending... and it could go on for hours. Long hours spent in agony, but that didn't mean it felt slow. On the contrary he seemed to be speeding through horrifying images and sensations but it just _didn't stop_. He broke into hard sweats and thrashed around, groaning or screaming. He didn't know where he was... _who_ he was. When it felt like his knees had given out he fell against the ground made of nothingness, and he couldn't tell if he was retching or his body was just being rocked terribly by invisible waves. If only someone would reach into this and grab his hand, pull him back out and wrap him in comfort. But no one was there, he fell, down, down, into darkness alone with no one to blame but himself.

Riku would always go back though. Because he wasn't afraid. He was fifteen and he feared nothing, just like he told Sora. It didn't matter what happened to him. He didn't care. He would go back night after night, continuing the cycle, always spinning uncontrollably... spiralling wildly down...

* * *

><p>Riku's eyes jerked open. If this were a movie, he would have sat bolt upright screaming. In his hysteric state, the unconscious half of him still figuring out that it wasn't real, all he could do was turn onto his side, press one hand to the bed, and slowly lift himself to rest on his elbow.<p>

Darkened aqua eyes darted around the room, and for one horror-struck moment, Riku couldn't recognize anything. His heart worked for all it was worth, pounding so hard and high he was sure he'd be in danger of choking on it. He coughed as though that would clear it, then licked dried lips. Frantically, he searched his mind for an explanation as his eyes roved over the desk, the clothes on the floor, the stars on the walls, and his ears seemed to regain their function, noting the gentle, undisturbed breathing of the boy next to him.

Reality was returning. Sora. He was in Sora's room. He was sixteen again. The hand that didn't support Riku gently reached to touch his own cheek, perhaps checking if this had somehow changed. His body relaxed a little when the familiar, slow-moving thought came that, indeed, nothing he had just witnessed was actually happening, and finally ended the animalistic terror of dreaming.

But the sophisticated mental and physical affects would linger. Riku allowed himself a couple deep breaths to steady his lungs, which had been alternating between hyperventilating – trying to pull far more air than he needed into his body – and halting their task altogether.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, curving his back to lean over them and staring with unnecessary depth at the rather uninteresting floor. His right hand rubbed the length of his neck, then slid over his collar and presented itself where he could see. The slight shine there indicated he was sweating, as if he couldn't feel that in his shirt, under his arms and at the small of his back.

Riku sighed. Underneath his skin, all the nerves were now unanimously vibrating with electricity. It seemed that if he even attempted to close his eyes right now they would snap back open in protest. Sleep was out of the question, then. At least until he calmed down.

In third person, he watched himself reach for his backpack, which currently rested against Sora's dresser. He... he needed some air.

He needed a lot more than that.

Riku's anxiety attack must have been more noticeable than he thought. Sora was stirring next to him, a few noises escaping his lips that were characteristic of just waking up. His spike-haired head (currently snarled, or limp, or kinked, and most of it in his eyes) lifted slightly. When he spoke, his voice was so muffled and distant, he might as well have still had his face buried in his pillow.

"R'ku..?" Sora looked a bit like some kind of newborn animal, blue eyes squinting, fighting a losing battle to open them fully. Riku bit his tongue, banishing that thought. "Wha's up?"

"Nothing," said Riku, a little harsher than intended. "Go back to sleep." He was still rooting around in his bag.

When the older teenager stood again and turned towards the door, Sora sat up a little higher. "Where're you going?"

"Going for a smoke." His tone indicated no room for questions or objections. He was exchanging his sweat-dampened t-shirt for a light hooded sweater.

The motivation to stay upright seemed to have left the brunette boy. He slumped back into his pillow, mumbling, "M'thought you were quitting."

"_Sora_, fuck, I'm just going t-" He stopped. He was nearly crushing the tiny box in his hand. After a second to collect himself, he tried again, quieter. "I-... Sorry. I'll be back."

Riku shut the door as softly as he could so as not to wake Sora's parents. He pushed back the burn of guilt as he headed down the stairs.

It was true – he did say he was quitting. And he intended to... one day. But to endure the months, or years, it would take to wean him off his more serious vices, he needed them. When the remorse, the sickness, the hurt, and the fear overtook him and he couldn't bear it alone without doing something much more stupid. And there was quite a bit for him to rehabilitate from. For every letter of the alphabet, there was some drug that Riku had been given- no, taken for himself. N for Nicotine was the one he was still allowed every once in a while.

Outside the moon was a pale sliver and did a poor job at lighting anything. Just as well, the sparsely placed streetlights cast small patches of light that kept the street from utter darkness. Under his feet, the grass was damp with lingering rainwater, and the air around him was still hot and moist. With the ocean so nearby, smatterings of rain to full on storms were a near-daily occurrence. It certainly smelled like it out here - earthy and humid and a just bit salty.

But Riku took little notice of this. Any and all of his focus was bent towards getting his poison into his body. Out here in the country there were no sidewalks, so he stopped just short of the road at the end of the lawn. He couldn't wait any longer.

His hands shook violently as he tried to extract a single white stick from the pack and a few more sprayed out over the dark grass. He swept them up with one hand and hurriedly stuffed them back in the package, swearing. Hopefully the contact with moisture hadn't ruined them. Time would tell. The battered cardboard package was tucked into the side of his loose pyjama pants (he had no pockets), and he pressed the single cigarette between his teeth. Still trembling, he flicked the purple-black lighter, one hand half-covering it, again and again, each time only receiving a few sparks or a split-second flare.

Riku chewed the cigarette in frustration. "Light. Light. Fucking _light_." His voice was a panicked murmur, and the half-tremors now racking his body almost forced the lighter to slip from his hand more than once. When at last the blaze remained standing for more than one second he had been just about ready to throw the useless thing. He pressed it to the tip of the abused cigarette.

Desperately, he puffed on it, finally inhaling that musty, chemical-laced smoke. He coughed once, but almost immediately his shoulders went slack and his shaking calmed. The tension purged itself from his body mercifully.

Riku hadn't dreamed like that for a while, he'd nearly thought it had gone from him. But it wouldn't be gone, not until the cravings subsided and his last memories of Ansem were just pieced together blurs, not crisp, frame-by-frame accounts. The more he tried to forget, the clearer those days became.

But in the end, he came back, he tried to remind himself. It was his own choice to leave Ansem. That day was as focused and real as this night was now. The apartment floor (he didn't know whose), littered and stained, was struck golden with early morning light. Riku didn't know how many hours he lay there, naked but warmed against Ansem's hard body. Ansem had drifted off hours ago, an arm around his young lover's hips. During the night, Riku felt every movement Ansem made, eventually pulling his arm away and turning onto his back while Riku lay rigid and still. He knew that now – too late for the night owls to be prowling still but too early for anyone to wake – was his time to move.

With only the soft padding of feet-against-tile and the rustle of fabric, Riku slipped away and started to dress. He had no bearings here, he didn't know where he was or which direction home was in, but he'd find a way.

A metallic _twang_ echoed too-loud against the silence as he thoughtlessly kicked a beer can out of his way. He could feel orange eyes on his back. Then the quiet questions started, the excuses, the lies. Finally, the truth. Then the shouting came, the insults, threats, jabbing at whatever wounds they could dig into. The other people in the room were waking under the noise but Riku hardly realised. It was only a matter of time before things got physical. Riku threw as many punches as he took, but nothing would deter him.

It was clear that he wasn't strong enough to overpower the larger man, so he swiped an unknown cell phone off the TV stand, dialled to the police. Ansem had been sure he was bluffing until Riku actually had the phone to his ear and was speaking to an officer. Only then did he let the boy go.

He wasn't afraid of anyone finding out about Riku, that was easy enough to explain away, claim the teenager was lying. If he put him on the spot, he knew Riku would give in. Anyway, at this point Riku had earned something of a record himself, so he'd already be on the wrong side of their suspicions. No, it was the sheer amount of illegal substances spread throughout the tiny apartment. If the police showed up here for any reason they'd all be screwed. There wouldn't be time to hide it and even if he did, Ansem appeared on so many watch lists that they'd have no trouble getting a warrant to search the place. Ansem knew that Riku understood that now, and it was his one great weapon against him.

So Riku went free, for the first time he could remember he breathed fresh air with a clear head. He was hardly dressed, and no item he wore around Ansem would be appropriate to wear home. It had been a week since he'd stopped at home to pick up some things, yell at his parents a bit, but at least keep them from assuming he'd gone missing. To them, he was just a kid who'd gone bad, probably running off with a gang of teenagers – he was careful never to give away just who he'd be with. Anyway, he'd stripped the clothes he'd picked up there at a stranger's house party days ago, and hadn't seen them since.

It wasn't important. He'd see home today no matter what state he was in.

He'd been sick of this life for a while, first because he was afraid and wanted to go home. He wanted to go to school every day, see his parents and friends and waste his days in safety and serenity. The nightlife had stopped being fun. At first, he dismissed that as being childish again. Just being immature and a coward. At any rate, it must be a fault of his own. So he pushed it back and tried harder, got _more_ daring, put _more_ drugs into his body each time, and even talked Ansem into letting him take charge in bed once or twice. But after weeks he felt neither more mature or proud, and he certainly wasn't having any more fun.

Only then did he allow himself to lift the responsibility from his shoulders and consider that maybe it _was_ Ansem. Each time they went out - or stayed in - after that, Riku kept that thought in the back of his mind. It didn't take long for him to come to resent Ansem. He had to – if he allowed himself to believe that it was any fault but his much older lover's, he'd never have the strength to keep himself from spiralling down further. At some point Riku had recognized that things had been taken too far. He knew then that he wanted to leave.

But it would take weeks for him to even try it. The thought of leaving brought up so many more problems. How could he go home, after all he had done? If he confessed to anything he could be arrested, or worse, treated like a victim. None of his old friends would take him back, and his family would surely never forgive him. But maybe he could live with that. Maybe that would be his repentance. Still, how would he do it? What would he say to Ansem when he left? There had been arguments with Ansem before, and Riku knew the ways he could get inside his head. He knew Ansem would try to convince him otherwise, turn it on Riku so he felt like he _had_ to stay.

Maybe there was truth to that, too. Riku was afraid. Afraid of living _without_ Ansem.

Once he'd actually _done_ it, though, it all seemed so simple. Obvious. And he kicked himself for waiting as long as he did.

Predictably, all hell broke loose when he announced that he was coming home for good. And only a few hours later, it was clear he didn't have a choice but to admit to his addictions. But no matter who questioned him, he wouldn't reveal where he got it all from. He was forced into rehab and threatened with jail time but neither would compel his lips to move.

The hardest had been Sora. He had been hiding it, but Riku knew he was fighting tears with all he had. His shoulders were trembling slightly, his voice would break in places, and he just wouldn't meet his eyes; Riku knew what he was doing because of all the times he'd done it himself. He just stood there, silent for a long time before asking in a small voice if there was any more that Riku was keeping from him. That was all it took for Riku's heart to break.

He didn't deserve the forgiveness he'd eventually received. He didn't deserve to be here. He didn't deserve to be with Sora.

His insides turned. One hand pressed against his stomach through the thin sweater. _'I'm going to throw up. I know it...'_

He inhaled from the cigarette again. Nicotine filled his lungs and hummed in his blood. He released the smoke along with a heavy sigh, _'Never mind,'_ and his hand fell to his side.

'With' Sora. Ha. He'd never be _with _Sora. Not the way he wanted it. Up until the last year, he would never have allowed himself to think of his childhood friend that way. They had always been competing over Kairi - that was just the way things were. He had a crush on Kairi... he thought. He wanted her protected, and he wanted to be the one to do it. Maybe he still did want that, or would, if he worked up the strength to give a shit. But that didn't mean he loved her or, more importantly, that he wanted her. No, after his time with Ansem he had to admit it to himself. Girls wouldn't – _couldn't_ – do anything for him. He knew what he wanted. _Who_ he wanted. It would always be Sora. No, it _had_ always been Sora. Anything else he told himself was a delusion.

He'd never dare tell him. He valued Sora too much to shatter their already delicate friendship over something so trivial. Sora had forgiven him, mostly, and was now inviting him out, or to his house for the night just the way he used to. The way he still grinned and playfully teased Riku, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened. Riku knew, or maybe his crumbling self-esteem had convinced him, that it wouldn't stay like this forever. Too much had happened for things to go back. Nonetheless, this time was too precious, too fragile to throw away by letting anything slip. He learned to be happy with what he had – their friendship, a place to go, and forgiveness he should never have earned.

The cigarette was burning to a stub, nearly singeing his fingers, so he let it drop. The wetness of the grass extinguished the spark; there was no need to stamp it out himself. He mourned the loss of it, having barely taken more than a couple drags before his thoughts had captured him, letting it burn down uselessly in his hand.

The nagging craving was bubbling forth in Riku's chest. His body ached for something stronger. He pushed those urges back with great effort. The previously-unknown depression that had set in after breaking things off with Ansem crippled his resolve to resist chemically-induced escapism. If anything, he needed it more now.

He needed to find a new vice. Something he hadn't tried before. Stronger than alcohol and nicotine. And something that didn't leave him feeling emptier for having filled himself. He needed... he needed...

God, he had no idea what he needed.

Without the cigarette in his hand, Riku realised then, he was just standing on Sora's damp lawn in the dead of night. Surely he looked ridiculous, or worse yet, dangerous. He hoped no paranoid old ladies called the cops, thinking he was a burglar, or a stalker.

He looked up into the darkened window he knew was Sora's room. He wondered if he'd be awake, waiting for Riku to come back just in case. He doubted it – Sora couldn't stay awake if you pointed a gun to his head and ordered him to. Maybe he shouldn't joke about that.

The dream and the memory of Ansem were still too fresh in his mind, still pounding in his system. To go back now and try to sleep in Sora's bed- No, he couldn't do it. It felt wrong, inappropriate for countless reasons. He wasn't certain which was the strongest among them. To be thinking about Ansem while next to Sora... He had to keep those two people far apart, mind and body. He'd never allow that dark part of his life, the part that hurt Sora so much, to touch his innocent friend, even only in his thoughts. To even think on the things he'd done back then would somehow tarnish the purity that Riku laid upon Sora in his mind. And always there was the irrational paranoia he felt that if the thought too much upon Ansem near him, Sora would somehow read his mind.

Of course, the possibility of those memories stirring arousal in him was very real, too. And to lie beside Sora in that state – the younger boy asleep and unaware, and Riku but a shadow's width from actually reaching out and brushing against the smooth, tanned skin – would be a definite breach of that invisible line of trust.

Riku pressed his hand hard to his forehead, as though it would create a barrier that might keep his brain together. If he couldn't go back to the bed, it wasn't far to walk to his house. Then again, passing out here on the cold grass seemed like an appealing option, too.

The little beast of craving still clawed at the inner side of his ribs, calling all his attention that wasn't focused on feeling desperately sorry for himself.

Release. It was all he could think of. Every part of him yearned for _something_. All his guilt, his desires, his fears had been festering in his chest all these months, yet he was cut off from anything that could ease it. His temples throbbed. Pressure was building under his skin, and with a sickly shudder Riku wondered if it might burst if he built up any more heaviness from his self-blame, any more refusals toward that which he needed: Release.

But there wasn't an escape, was there?

There _could_ be, a long-blocked part of his brain reminded him, if he wanted it badly.

That familiar surge of recklessness struck him. Past the dark shapes of trees and homes he could see the city. It was all yellow grid of still-lit windows, and the light of it all formed a haze along the outline of the tall buildings, which were otherwise black and indistinguishable against the night. Nothing could lift him out of his thoughts right now like the things he could get up to downtown at night. Adrenaline pounded like a drum and he nearly lurched forward.

He _could_, the small voice in his mind kept telling him.

And why not? Riku shoved the guilt down to the bottom of his heart and allowed himself the leisure of irresponsibility. It wouldn't be wrong to just _live_ for a night. It would be alright if he just didn't consider it a failure, only... a break. Playing hooky from his recovery for a night.

Riku checked his watch. In Sora's - and his now - tame life, it was late and the night was over. In the heart of the city, though, the night had hardly begun. He had _hours_ ahead of him.

Something within him tipped over the edge. Silently, he apologized to Sora. He was sure his younger friend would worry about him in the morning. He could make an excuse over the phone later, when he actually had the courage to face him. As of right now, the night beckoned Riku, and if he let himself indulge in weakness for one night, this was the way he was going to be weak.

* * *

><p>It took less than an hour, allowing for a quick detour to his house to get dressed, to reach the centre of the city. He couldn't very well have gone in his pyjamas. It had taken a minor debate with himself to decide to put on one of the few 'Ansem' outfits he still had. He certainly wasn't looking for anyone to pick him up tonight, but he'd honestly be more likely to blend wearing this than ordinary plain clothing.<p>

Black, blue, purple, and a touch of red, it was almost like a cat suit, so tight that Ansem once joked that he could see right down to the fibres of Riku's muscles. Riku only remembered that because he'd been so pleased to have the tone in his body noticed. He'd managed to dig up the gloves and the ribbed boots as well. He didn't intend to be picked out from a crowd, and in the downtown, this was exactly how he'd have to do it.

The look of life had turned around completely from the calm rural street he'd been standing on earlier that night. Out here, the pale and muted became an explosion of colour and light. The wetness on the ground out here wasn't rain, but patches of rainbow-shining oil on the street. Instead of sea air, he smelled sweat, pollution, and a bit of candy.

Heat radiated almost unbearably, out of the doors of businesses that ran on man's weaknesses, as well as just lifting off the sheer amount of activity on the streets. Honest businesses that stayed open late moved some of their wares onto carts outside to tempt those whose judgement was impaired, while others patrolled the streets looking to sell you something more personal – sex, drugs, who knew. Hot pink and sultry red lights blazed over the strip clubs, lights in blue, purple and green neon tubing lined bars and nightclubs, and dazed patrons wandered between the two with the look of people who had come to know life's greatest splendours. The young drunks ran through the streets, shrieking with laughter, while the older drunks sat on staircases and in doorways, singing badly or yelling at the younger drunks. Everywhere people prowled for their next temptation; their next euphoria.

Oh, Riku saw the dark side too. Junkies crouched in the alleys with the homeless. Gang members lurked in shadows with switchblades in their jackets, waiting for a rival to come along. If you saw two people close together, you'd be hard-pressed to tell whether it was a conversation, a drunk brawl, a mugging, a drug deal, fucking, or a murder.

Whatever it was, Riku would take it. The noise, the sights, and the danger drowned out anything he regretted right now. Maybe it was only the atmosphere he craved, and he wouldn't need to rely on any substance but the feel of it. If only he could shoot up the overwhelming life, light, and movement of this place.

It was the thrill that moved Riku's feet, seemingly of their own accord, down a road he knew well. He ducked those trying to sell him sin and ignored any passes made at him. If it was ambience he wanted, he knew just where to go.

The club was below street level, the only indication that the dark building was of any interest was a sign that hung out into the alley. It's lights were only white, but so shockingly bright that it almost appeared blue if you could stand to look at it that long. He clanged down the rickety steel stairway and carried on through the black-painted alley, only that bright sign lighting his way.

At last he found the door and despite his age the bouncer didn't even look his way. No one questioned him at the doors here anymore. Maybe it was because he'd been here so many times. Times that he could scarcely remember: stumbling past bouncers, high on whatever that night had given him, dazed under the piercing lights as more narcotics found their way inside his body. And the things that he and Ansem would do in the dark corners, regardless of who had full view of them. Surely he would never be forgotten for all the free shows he had unwittingly given.

Or maybe it was because he looked older than he was. A year ago, he would have loved to hear that.

Inside was exactly as he remembered it – too dark to see and too loud to hear. The beams of light that lined the walls were decoration; they did not cast any glow beyond themselves. It seemed the only light existed behind the bar, and it was merely a few electric blue spotlights shining on the staggered rows of bottles and glasses. What played there wasn't so much music as a tribal sort of mishmash of bass, a hundred faceless voices, glasses clinking, and a pounding sort of aura of all those people moving and writhing in the small windowless space. You weren't yourself when you stepped in here, you were the whole room, the entire shadowed mass of sound, sweat and sensation, living by one unified pulse and identity.

By memory or miracle, Riku found his way to his own seat at the bar. He ordered three shots to start, and tipped them back one after the other without pausing, with each making a silent toast to forgetting. He may have craved this overwhelmingly surreal atmosphere to lose himself in, but that didn't mean it couldn't be sped along by alcohol.

It must have been a long time since he'd allowed himself any drug because the buzz was already setting in. Not wanting the night over too fast, he ordered himself a proper drink. He sipped this one more steadily, and let his eyes roam to what little he could see. It was sort of strange being on the outside, looking in on those just like he had been, and a little boring, honestly. When he was high, his own mind was enough of a playground. It could be fun, or terrifying, but he'd surely never be bored no matter what he was doing.

But he wasn't interested putting himself between any of those gyrating bodies, knowing by now what else anyone who put their hands on him might have touched before. Riku had no intention of interacting with anyone at a place like this. He knew too well what kind of people they would be. After a moment, he closed his eyes and he took a generous swig. Boring though it may be, he'd rather stay here and savour in his non-feeling.

"Another of what he's having."

Riku's eyes flew back open. He nearly choked.

Everyone, Riku included, seemed to have this idea of how men who preyed on children should sound – slimy and obviously sinister, or overly kind and parent-like, or otherwise whiny, desperate and even lonely. That wasn't Ansem. His voice was deep, clear and resounding. It had a maturity to it, a confidence that could only be gained by overcoming the insecurities and fervent idealism of adolescence. It was not fatherly either – the edge it held promised more danger, and to foolish teenagers, that much more excitement.

He sounded like an adult. And how Riku _longed _to be an adult.

"Ansem."

"Riku."

A second glass, dripping with condensation, was set down next to Riku's. The effort it took to rip his gaze from it surprised even him. But he had to. He had to look at him.

There were the dark skin and moon coloured hair, the bright orange eyes and the expression that couldn't decide whether it was a smirk or a sneer. He was tall, much taller than Riku, but not quite as much as he had built him up to be in his mind over the last few months. And there was the long black and white coat he seemed to wear for any occasion, leaving his broad chest uncovered and giving Riku an unwanted reminder of the muscles he had once regarded with a mixture of admiration and envy. Unlike himself, Ansem hadn't changed in the slightest.

This wasn't a dream. Everything about him was real. Ansem, who he hadn't seen in months since he stormed out barely dressed and threatening him with a police investigation. Ansem, the pedophile who took a thrill seeking fifteen year old under his wing and let him fall headfirst into the life of nightcrawling adult user. Ansem, the reason Riku was here in the first place dousing his sorrows with alcohol, was really standing in front of him.

Riku wasn't sure how to take it. The panic was there, the fear and the anger, yet mixed with an unexpected touch of... was it relief?

There was no way he would let Ansem would see that in his expression. Riku generously resisted the immediate option of spitting in his face. "I should have known you'd be here."

"Yet you still came to this place specifically. It's almost as though you were looking for me."

Riku's glass slammed to the countertop. "I'd only track you down to kick your ass the way you deserve. I didn't get a proper chance last time."

"Riku. Don't forget that I never forced you into anything. Everything you ever did, _you_ asked me for." His arms crossed over his powerful chest.

Riku didn't want to admit he was right. Half-right, at least. "You should've known better than to give that to a kid anyway."

"Interesting, I never imagined you would call yourself a 'kid'."

Riku bristled. "Don't you have a twelve year old for you to fuck back there?"

Ansem didn't appear to be listening. He circled the teenager, pausing at his other side to lean against the bar."I've been waiting here, you know, in the heart of the city. Waiting for you to plunge back into your desires; the weakness inside of you."

He was doing it again, trying to get inside Riku's mind. He hadn't had to fall back on his old blocking techniques for so long. "Get to it already. What do you want?"

"I watched you since the moment you came in. Watched how skilfully you handled yourself in this dangerous place. You've grown, Riku." Ansem indicated the drink on the bar. "Even your tastes have matured."

Riku had finished the drink in his hand, and eyed the one on the counter. He wasn't about to show weakness or hesitation in front of this man, so he grabbed that and started drinking too. Anyway, it was a good excuse not to say anything to him. Ansem could turn anything on him, weave his words into flattery or bring out his deepest fears as he liked.

For being a shameless pedophile, Ansem probably enjoyed the fact that Riku had grown since they last saw each other. Often, when they were together, Ansem had liked to show him off to his friends at various bars and parties. He'd parade Riku about, an arm around his shoulder, but he'd never treat him like a child or a girlfriend. Riku was able to roam away from Ansem when he wanted, and he would always speak for himself. Sometimes Ansem would brag to people about something that his young lover had done, and Riku enjoyed their amazement at his audacity, or maturity, as he believed. After all, nothing was more adult than his actions being admired by other adults.

When Riku didn't respond, Ansem carried on. "So why would you come back to this life but still refuse me? You know you and I are similar. We're both drawn to the night and we follow wherever there's danger." He paused to consider his next words. "Indeed, we are the same, so why? Are you still just a child? Is some part of you still afraid to live?"

Riku let out a small, humourless laugh. "That's not it. The truth is... I just can't stand your jackass attitude."

"You're not very smart. You know what I can give to you." He leaned even closer, so he could purr almost against Riku's ear. Riku attempted to swat him away, but his arm felt heavy and disconnected, as if he only had partial control of it. That was weird. "And what I can do to you."

Riku dropped his hand to the bar, not willing to show Ansem that he might be even slightly off. "Yeah, I know. I tried everything you gave to me, thinking it would make me more adult, yet S- some kid from my home didn't even have to try to be more grown up than my stupid attempts could ever be. I'm not impressed with your _'living_,' and I'm not interested in what you're giving me. Leave me alone."

"In that case..."

But Riku didn't hear what Ansem was saying. The image of him swayed a little before righting itself. In his mind, someone had turned down the volume of the entire bar, music, voices and all. It felt as though his thoughts were treading through thick mud. He almost recognised this sort of buzz, and with a subdued sort of jolt, he realised that it _wasn't alcohol_.

He didn't waste time deliberating on his suspicions. "What the hell did you give me, Ansem?"

Ansem grinned, not at all intimidated by Riku's heaviest glare. It only incensed the teen more. "Relax, it's nothing you haven't had before."

"I'm _off _that, you asshole!" Growling, Riku jumped from his seat, aiming to swing at him, but stumbled.

Infuriatingly, Ansem steadied him, and that smirk widened. "My mistake. Now, I was only trying to get you to loosen up. But Riku, you can't resist me."

"Watch..." But Riku was forgetting his words faster than they could leave him, and it rather killed the venom of his words. "...me."

He shook it off, or convinced himself that he did, and jerked out of Ansem's arms. The very last thing he wanted was his hands on him ever again. With as much dignity as he could, he gathered himself to walk towards the door. Wherever... the door was. The layout was suddenly unfamiliar, it seemed as though he could walk on forever if he tried to leave. Fuck.

It hadn't taken full effect yet. Though he couldn't remember this drug's name, he had a pretty good idea of the stages he'd go through on it. Anyway, he could still see and hear semi-properly and he had decent control of himself. But it was fast acting, he recalled, so he didn't have much time to get out of here. If he did, would Ansem follow him? He wouldn't get anywhere fast like this, if anyone wanted to catch him, it would be all too easy.

Damn it, what the _fuck_ was wrong with Ansem? He'd never slipped Riku anything before. At least, not secretly. He'd been handed things he didn't want before and got talked into it, and Ansem had on occasion influenced his hand to his mouth, but never before had he hidden a drug to be ingested.

Ansem's hand was on his shoulder again, guiding him. To anyone else, it might look like they were here together. Just the last thing Riku wanted. "Get off." His voice was dangerously low.

Valiantly, Riku still tried for the door, but Ansem's grip was unrelenting. Clearly, he was through with the facade of an amicable greeting between two adults who'd just parted ways more than breaking up. Riku wasn't sure who he'd been putting that show on for in the first place. More importantly, he didn't want to be taken anywhere, but his struggles were pathetically weak at most.

These dark hiding places. The junkies and the drunks and the party kids. Riku knew it all. He'd been all three. It was so easy to imagine he was just having flashbacks right now. It was just too damn familiar and unreal. It couldn't possibly be happening in reality.

As if. Even as he slipped deeper into the drug's effect, Riku didn't believe that.

Ansem didn't fuck around. He'd brought Riku right back into the dark pit of the place where they couldn't possibly be found. Under the half-second blare of a spotlight he'd never be seen, and if he shouted at his highest volume it would still be drowned by the music. He couldn't even see Ansem in front of him. He only had it in good faith that the hand on his shoulder was connected to him somewhere in the gloom.

If Riku's sudden onset of hysteria wasn't the pounding, mind-bending product of this environment, then the drug had finally taken full effect.

The limited amount he could still see blurred around the edges and started to twist to one side, as though beginning the arc of an extremely slow-forming spiral. Invisible hands were moving him, and he recognized that he'd been pushed against some kind of seat, though as he perceived it, it might not have been a real seat at all, just a raised structure made of pure dark matter. Whatever it was, it was connected in every way to the pressing black, and therefore part of the darkness.

Screamingly bright flashes of light alternated from a blue to red gel. Each time they flashed on, he could see individual figures as silhouettes but the light would disappear so fast that they didn't appear to move. When the next light came on the figures had all changed position seemingly without moving. It was like some grotesquely coloured high-speed reel of still frames.

Red, blue (two of the shapes mid-punch), red, blue (most of the crowd had their hands thrown in the air), red, blue (close in front of him two people were kissing, in a corner a small huddle bent over a distraught figure). Red, blue, red, blue... His head was beginning to throb.

An oddly amplified sound of a zipper was Riku's first and only warning. But he was too slow on understanding and it seemed impossible to speak, let alone protest. He couldn't even feel the clothing he wore being parted.

Something very hot was enclosing him directly between his legs. He'd already gone from freezing to sweating in a matter of seconds, but this... this was beyond boiling point.

Red, Riku raised his head enough just to see an outline of a person knelt between his parted legs. Blue, the outline bowed its head and at that moment he was engulfed in deeper suction.

"Uhhn..." He more felt the noise in his throat than heard it. Besides, that didn't prove it had come from him. Light, sound, smell, touch, taste... everything seemed as though it had disconnected from its source and just attacked Riku as an independent being.

Riku's head fell back against the seat-slash-dark-formation and the ceiling seemed to be approaching him. It didn't alarm him much. _That_ felt almost normal. Besides, every nerve in his body had already vacated its post and headed toward that wet suction.

Red, blue. His most fully formed thought yet drifted through his inebriated mind. Right now, he hoped that was Ansem with his mouth around Riku's gradually reacting penis. Bad as Ansem was, finding that to be a stranger would be worse. Then again, Ansem had always been something of a territorial lover, so Riku doubted he'd lead him into this just to have some random touch him, even for the sake of revenge.

Struggling occurred to him, too, but he'd discovered within moments that he couldn't move. Mentally, he was so disoriented that he couldn't tell up from left, and physically – well, if the drug was debilitating, the mouth on him was downright paralyzing.

His bare hips gained a bit of feeling and movement, as at that moment he'd tried to buck right into Ansem's throat, and a pair of calloused hands pinned him firmly back down by them. He didn't know why, but that made him groan again.

Red, blue, red. This was completely wrong. Blue.

The lips on him were pulling back. For a second Riku wondered if that was it. He was quickly proven wrong with a vengeance. Those lips found a new home, sucking at the base of his erection and lower still, taking in the nerve-jammed sac as well. Roughened fingers joined lips and tongue, alternating cradling the flesh and gently kneading. Another hand had glided around the slick shaft and was pumping at an unforgiving pace.

Riku hadn't known pleasure like this in so long. He didn't touch himself once since he left, knowing what he would fantasize about.

Even now, everything was so surreal. He could feel the mouth and hands on him, but nothing else seemed to be of this world. Riku was confronted with the horrific thought that maybe this _was_ all a sick, intoxicated fantasy of his. He'd invented a lot of things that never really happened while under one influence or another.

Red, blue. The song had changed, but it sounded all the same to him. Red,blue.

Riku didn't dare try to look up at the hazy image of the bar – the only thing still lighted constantly. By now it might have actually formed the full circle and he'd be staring into a black hole.

Hands stayed in place but the mysterious mouth was never satisfied with one place for long. Now it moved to the head of his arousal, bathing it in short licks. Then long strokes through the slit, cleaning away glistening fluid. Pleasure _scalded_.

One of Riku's own hands struggled by his side. It wanted to reach up and thread through the hair which would hopefully be long and silver-white, but he still wasn't sure. He wanted to pull that mouth down and absorb his whole body and mind in searing heat, wetness, and suction, feel the slightest movement of tongue or throat rubbing every pleasure point, and each sound creating intense vibration that settled right into his skin. His hand still couldn't move, but the mental sensations he'd created helped.

The more heavy the feeling got, the worse reality became. Everything was a mess in his hearing and vision. When the lights flashed this time everything was swirling beyond his control, and it looked nothing like the place he remembered earlier that night. Red. All the silhouettes twisted, demonic faces glaring down on him, each only a growth off the massive blackness. Blue. The music may as well have been a choir of sinister cackling, as far as his ears knew. Oh god...

A last firm squeeze around him was all he could take. "Ahh-..." Blindingly good as it felt, that portion of reactors was pushed back to second priority. His brain was working rapidly on several different layers now.

Just like in his dreams, the background and all the sensations were disappearing, and he knew he was losing his grip. As in his memory, the entire scene could vanish in a blip. Maybe he'd be suddenly dropped in the middle of another, too.

But this wasn't a dream. This had to be real. Why in the world would he make this up?

Riku moaned in a way that involved no pleasure. His mind felt as though it was approaching the finishing line first after a very long marathon, then suddenly tripped and broke its ankle.

Red, blue. Black.

* * *

><p>Riku didn't know how many hours had passed. He didn't know whether he'd slept or just lay there in total silence of mind, darkness pressing in all around him. Whatever the case, as he painstakingly lifted his head, he registered that he wasn't in the bar anymore.<p>

He couldn't be at home either. The stucco white ceiling wasn't that of his own room. The cold hardwood floor his legs stretched out on and the thick shag rug he'd used as a pillow definitely weren't his either. The air he breathed shakily smelled mostly of dust and a bit of pot.

Shit. It happened again.

Which was stronger – panic or rage, he might never know. He pushed them both down with the determination to get out of here. He couldn't get hysteric now, there would be time for that later. If he could just force himself to be rational for ten minutes, he could find the exit and creep out of here unnoticed.

Ansem would be somewhere in the room, but he had to be asleep. If he were awake, he'd be lying there staring at Riku like the pervert he was, and would have been immediately alerted when Riku's eyes opened.

Trying to breathe deeply without choking on the cloying air, Riku gathered his thoughts and locked them in the back of his brain for later. With a tired and wire-tight stealth, he pulled himself to his feet and began his search for his things. It was a bit relieving to find that he was still dressed, though the bodysuit was mussed and twisted and hung off one shoulder. He hadn't brought anything with him, aside from cash (which had probably been stolen while he was out of commission, but that was of little consequence), so all there was to do was find his boots. The gloves he could give or take depending on how hard it was to find them. Hell, if it took too long to track down his shoes he'd go without those too.

He just had to get out, now.

But thankfully, all his clothing was within a few feet of him or discarded by the entrance. He picked up both his gloves and boots, not intending to put on either until he was safely outside. Riku had to shuffle the armful around a bit to reach for the handle of the rusty industrial-looking door.

There was a sound from the kitchen. And footsteps. Riku held his breath both in anticipation, and the effort not to hyperventilate.

Ansem appeared at the doorway to the tiny adjoining kitchen. He was half-naked, looking just as tousled as Riku, and clutching a morning beer to take the edge off his hangover. His lips were grinning but the glint Riku knew all too well in his eye was pure irritation. It didn't make it all the way to fury or disgust, more like the kind of exasperated disappointment of a parent to find their child misbehaving. Riku _despised_ that look.

"Leaving already."

It wasn't entirely a question or a statement. It was just words. Two words in an unreadable tone that hung in the air between them.

Riku paused with his hand still on the door handle. "You didn't honestly think I'd stay here did you?"

"Honestly," His sentence broke to take a sip from his beer, "You gave quite a few contrary signals to me last night. You didn't seem at all opposed to what we did."

Ansem was bluffing. He had to be bluffing. Though last night was a blur of bright colour and imaginary shape, Riku was sure he'd remember if something truly that significant happened. At once he remembered the wetness and head between his legs. So... maybe that tripped out blowjob did happen. It made his stomach turn, but Riku really just hoped they didn't have sex. Though all things considered, he probably would have felt the evidence of that as soon as he woke up.

"I'm not going to play games with you, Ansem. Tell me what happened."

Ansem was approaching Riku, going to stroke a tress of his hair. Riku wanted to slap his hand away, but his arms wouldn't move. His hand on the door handle turned purple, then white, unable to let go. "I had an idea that works for both of us. I've got connections to a backstage party tonight at the concert hall. You come with me, then you can think about what you _truly_ desire."

"Too bad. I've already decided. This is never happening again."

And the bastard was laughing. Having a fucking field day over whatever it was about what Riku said he found so amusing. "Is that so? That's no good, Riku. I know you too well, _inside_ and out. You're furious with me, that I don't doubt. You'll return home for a while, seethe and sulk to your heart's content. But it won't last. Whether you are craving a hit, or my touch, or the night, you'll return. Maybe you would have lasted but now you've let yourself taste it again, and each time you do, the sooner you'll need it again.

"And that boy you griped on and on about last night. His name was Sora?" Everything inside of Riku turned to solid ice. How fucked must he have been to drop his guard about the one thing he was never to mention to Ansem? "He's not going to be enough. Pining isn't good for you, especially when you're already denying yourself _so much_. Why not give yourself over to me? You should know I'd never refuse you anything. Or maybe I should find him, this boy, and he can join us-"

Riku was already moving, drawing his fist back and striking as hard as he could. Ansem dodged in time for no real physical harm to befall him, but the bottle in his hand was knocked to the ground and smashed, spraying beer and glass shards, which spread far across the room, clattering along the floor and over both their feet.

Ansem's true face was showing at last. "Insolent _brat!_" Strong hands gripped the cloth at Riku's chest and shoved him back forcefully. Riku stumbled but had no means to catch himself, lost his balance and fell hard onto a nearby set of drawers. In one second his back had skidded along the length of it, no doubt leaving a nasty stripe of raw, torn skin, and the back of his head collided with it. All of this was very loud but not quite so much as when his body collapsed entirely to the floor. His head knocked against the drawer again and tiny pieces of glass pressed sharply into his legs, threatening to open his flesh but not quite tearing through the fabric.

Riku groaned and tried to right his mind. Fuck, Ansem was still physically stronger than him. He'd have to fight dirty. Fortunately, that was one of the few things Ansem had taught him well.

He felt along the floor for something, anything to use as a weapon. Among the glass that opened small bleeding cuts in his palm, he found something whole and cold. Yet another dark brown bottle among the trash on the floor. This would do.

Pushing back the ache, Riku arranged himself to one knee. It was similar to the position sprinters take before a race. He sprang hard off the ground, running at Ansem with all the violence he'd suppressed pounding in his injured head. "_Ansem!_"

There was a loud collision and a split second of great confusion in which no one could tell who bested who. Another second later they were both on the floor, struggling to breathe. Riku noticed he was still holding the bottle, which was missing a large jagged chunk now, leaving it brittle but otherwise intact.

"This is," Riku panted, "The end."

Ansem appeared in worse shape. He was on his knees, clutching his head and trying to feel whether and glass had been embedded in it. His head throbbed and deafened him for brief periods, but he spoke after a struggle. "This is... hardly... the end." He swore he felt blood when he felt over his hair again. "I taught you everything you know, and you need me. Someday you'll come back all on your own."

Drained, but feeling triumphant, Riku gripped the nearest surface to help himself stand. Walking gingerly against the pain of his injuries, he gathered the clothing he had dropped. Ansem seemed to preoccupied checking his skin for glass to stop him this time. It was almost a shock when Riku wedged the door open and nothing happened, as though he'd been expecting something to jump out at him.

He didn't say another word to his ex-lover. No, ex-pedophile. But he left him with something more. Before the door swung shut he threw the second bottle back inside, shattering this one against the floor as well.

Fuck Ansem. He was wrong.

* * *

><p>It was sheer force of will that brought Riku stumbling home. Fortunately he'd been able to recognise the part of town he'd been in when he left. Ansem must've got a new apartment, or been bunking in someone else's while they were gone.<p>

He'd taken something else from the apartment. A long black coat he found on the floor. He had to hide his appearance from both predators and friends. If his family saw him come in like this it would start an uproar he just couldn't take right now.

Riku didn't think he'd make it all the way up his lawn but he managed it, collapsing onto the front step. Tired, ashamed, both his head and body ached with the aftershocks of the night. He didn't have the courage to head in yet.

His face was hidden in one of his palms. This wasn't how he'd wanted things to go. He'd never hated himself so much as he did right now.

He'd been weak. Too foolish to realise this would happen. If not immediately, then inevitably. Ansem had brought up the thing he feared most. That it wouldn't end here. Now that he'd given in he'd just do it again and again, and fall back into the cycle. Riku couldn't trust himself. Not anymore. He'd betrayed himself – done everything he'd sworn never to do again. And at the heart of it all there was Ansem. He was so weak. So goddamned _weak_.

Back bowed, he curled up harder into himself. He felt like a kid again. Lost, hopeless, wishing he could blame someone other than himself. Fuck, of all the things he'd hoped never to be again, here he was, on the verge of crying like a kid and hoping for his mother there to grab onto her hand and keep close against her comforting warmth.

He was so disgusting.

"Riku..."

No. No, no, no, no. Of all the voices for him to hear, why did it have to be that one?

"Riku! You're here! I've been looking for you all night." Sora was all but flinging himself across the grass, tripping often and finally skidding to a stop, dropping to his knees in front of Riku.

Why was Sora here? Why did he have to see him like this? Riku wanted sorely not to raise his head, have to show Sora his eyes, but more so, have to look into his. But staying curled up like this only made it all the more obvious that something was wrong. He swore he'd never show this weak side to anyone, Sora especially. He had to deal with it on his own, without anyone's help.

Sora seemed hysteric, gripping one of Riku's arms as he was. A few tears slipped over his cheeks and he hiccupped quietly every few seconds. He'd really... worried about him. Riku had to say something. "Come on, Sora. You've got to pull it together." He wasn't sure whether he'd really said that for Sora, for himself, or maybe a little for them both. Either way, it seemed to straighten his thoughts a bit.

His smaller friend shook his head mutely and Riku could feel the pressure around his arm increase. "I looked everywhere for you! Why'd you just take off like that?"

"You shouldn't have had to see me... the way I was." His resolve broke down a little, sounding almost accusatory. "I didn't want you to find me."

Sora didn't appear to be offended, but just kept pressing it. He'd known Riku wasn't better yet, he'd always known. But it seemed like a bad idea to bring it up, especially after all the refusals to say anything when this all started. So he stayed a silent support to Riku and tried to make everything go back to normal. But that was no good. Riku was hurting himself somehow, and while Sora worried deeply for him, he was also hurt, and angry.

"Why didn't you tell me something was wrong? You didn't say anything, or leave a note or... anything!"

Riku averted his bloodshot eyes. "I told you. I didn't want to be found. Not like this... I couldn't."

He was cracking, the weak points had opened up and with another push he could shatter. Of course, Sora was, as he always had been, the best at pushing those points.

It couldn't be stopped, as just then Sora was enveloping him in a firm and all-too platonic hug. Riku's mind was filled with every time, including just a moment ago, that he had wished someone would do this, just give him this shred of grounding and security. And now he couldn't help himself. His arms slipped around Sora's waist and though it made him shudder with guilt, he laid his head on his best friend's shoulder.

There they stayed. One kneeling in the damp grass and the other hunched up on the short stone step. And both were silent. In the cold of a wet and early morning, they were a small source of warmth. Riku swore he could feel Sora's heart beating under his. It was a little erratic with fear.

Riku knew he had to tell Sora everything. Having him pressed so close made him a little braver. "I have flashbacks sometimes. I never tell anyone about them. It's just so stupid, I just think about all the things I've done, and... who I've hurt." He tried not to look directly at him. "I got one tonight, real bad..."

What was he thinking? He couldn't explain this, Sora would never understand. "And my rehab, getting off my vices? It's not easy. ... That's an understatement – it's just about the hardest thing I ever could have done. Anyway, it's not going well either. I know you can't imagine what this is like. I don't expect you to understand where I'm coming from. It's better if you don't. But, that's how things happened. Maybe it was because of the dream, or maybe because I didn't want you to see me, or maybe it was just because I couldn't get my cigarette to light, but I couldn't take it.

"I..." Riku entertained the bizarre thought that jumping down a waterfall would be easier than admitting this. "I went back. I mean, the places I used to go out to do... you know."

Sora didn't interrupt him, though his brow creased a little more. Somehow, it would have been better if he would start shouting and throwing punches.

"That's why I didn't tell you where I was going, anyway. But I didn't actually-... not intentionally..." Riku paused to reorder his thoughts. He'd just confuse Sora like this. "I just wanted a drink, to relax. And it did feel good, I won't lie. And then... I was slipped something. I swear I'm not lying." He skipped over what happened next, he wouldn't have been able to voice it if he tried. "I ran into someone I knew back then, really well. We talked for a while, and we fought, but I'm not going to see him again."

He had the thought as he spoke it. But it was right. He wouldn't see Ansem again. So the asshole had messed around in his head a bit again tonight. But Riku was slowly sobering, and he could think for himself now.

This would be the last time, he was sure. He'd had his one last fix, and it fuelled him. Gave him reason to keep going, and this time, to fight it.

Facing Sora was another battle entirely.

The brunet boy finally released him, and seemed to be thinking over what he'd heard. This anticipation twisted Riku's gut worse than any hangover or crash. "But nothing else bad happened? Are you still... Are you okay? Whatever someone gave you, is it still, you know?"

"A bit." There were a few lingering effects of the drug Ansem had given him, but this was sobering him quite effectively.

Sora was getting that serious look he only had those few times Riku could remember being confronted by him. "Then, come on, man. Why did you try to do so much on your own? You've got friends. Me and Kairi and everyone else..."

Normally Riku would've teased Sora for a comment like that, but it felt inappropriate. He had to answer honestly, then, and without a defence. "You don't understand. You couldn't have stopped me and I wouldn't want you getting mixed up with him, anyway."

"This guy you knew... who is he?"

The atmosphere changed. Riku had gone rigid and icy. He had never breathed a word of Ansem to anyone, and he intended to continue that trend until the day he died. They could come up with whatever stories they wanted about where Riku had learned all this and where he'd been supplied his drugs, but he would never tell the truth.

It wasn't that he wanted to protect Ansem. He wanted to see the guy behind bars if possible. He just happened to know what his own life was bound to become once word got around. First, he'd have to testify against Ansem, meaning everything that he'd ever done to him would be out, and eventually, by word of mouth, it would become public knowledge. That was just how things went in this little town. Riku couldn't stand the idea of being treated like a victim for the rest of his life - people tiptoeing around him, afraid to say or do anything to upset him. People looked at you differently once they knew the kind of things that happened to you. When the residents of the town caught sight of Riku here or there, he'd much rather they mutter in distaste at his rebelliousness than whisper words of pity amongst themselves.

That was why he couldn't tell. But the way Sora looked at him almost dissolved his will.

Surprisingly, Sora changed the topic. "Let's go back to my place."

"Sora, I can't..."

"Don't say another word!" Riku's protests halted for a second. He could be brotherly and playful, concerned, affectionate, teasing, heroic, and sometimes flustered with petty anger, but Sora was never harsh.

"I can't let myself. I betrayed your trust, you don't know when I might do it again. I could be lying to you right now. I don't think we should be-"

Sora started to pull Riku to his feet. "Friends, right? Well, it's not over, okay? It's just not."

"How can you say that? You know what I did... to myself, my parents, Kairi, and _you_."

"Aw, come on, Riku." Sora was starting to look like himself again. His eyes took on that sly look that Riku had known his best friend to give for so long. "You've been spending all your time beating yourself up. You've gotta cheer up and think of getting better."

Riku couldn't describe the affection he felt for Sora just then. It was an overwhelming bond, trust toward Sora tangling with the guilt he still held in his hear. It wasn't the kind of affection that made him lustful, though he could certainly kiss him right now. He just abruptly came to appreciate how much he loved this boy, whether that would ever be returned or not.

He was basically being held up by Sora. The fatigue, the drug, and all this emotion turned out more physically draining than he anticipated. Riku raised his head and found deep blue. "Sora?"

"Hm?"

"You lead."

Sora gave him a small smile and he felt his heart leap. "Got it."

Riku would be happy to let everyone believe that he'd somehow come across all this sin on his own. It didn't matter much to him that he was being widely regarded as a bad seed, even after all this time, even after new gossip replaced his story.

None of what anyone thought of him mattered because he could never tell anyone about Ansem.

But Sora. Sora was different. Maybe Sora would understand, and hold that dark secret of his. The undying loyalty (or was it stupidity?) he'd just shown him told Riku loud and clear that he could be trusted above anyone. Maybe it was the drug still in his body. Probably was. But whatever it was, he was ready to tell Sora.

* * *

><p>Oh my god, so much angst! Riku, be a man!<p>

When I looked back over this, I realised it mirrored Riku's in-game storyline more than I originally intended. When I started this story, I only meant for their conversation in the bar to have the same sort of themes to it. So, um... Sorry Disney and Square for stealing your thunder...?

This is kind of a first for me because I never really write oneshots. So if this is your first time reading something of mine, check out the multi-chapter stuff too. And don't believe what anyone tells you about my updating habits. Other than that, leave a review if you have something to say, if not thanks for reading anyway.

No, I don't use the name of any drugs used in this story other than alcohol and nicotine. This is because I don't do drugs, and I don't want people running around accusing me of misinformation because _I made this shit up_. So the thing Ansem fucked Riku up with is a potent little powder called plot device. Ooberries out.

PS. Yes, Riku wears a wristwatch to bed because THAT'S HOW HE ROLL.


End file.
